


so now begins the waiting.

by Quinara



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: sb_fag_ends, F/M, Free Verse, Poetry, season: b6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinara/pseuds/Quinara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy's just run out of the crypt, virtue fluttering; Spike writes a poem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so now begins the waiting.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bruise Blue Ink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/156170) by [Quinara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinara/pseuds/Quinara). 



> Written for the 'Starting a sexual relationship/Being strong in the face of temptation' prompt on the LJ community sb_fag_ends.
> 
> Additionally, this work is meant to be aligned right. If you have creator's styles hidden by default, please press the button to turn them on for this page so you can get the full effect (this is the only style I have applied)! In my wanky creative head this is a really important part of the poem...

**so now begins the waiting.**

As you’ve fucked off again, so now begins the waiting.  
My heart, my head, my senses, everything  
Is eking out from all the blood you wasted pulling south  
And I can see you, clear as all your spunk on me.

I used to dream of fucking you, you know?  
Your cunt would slide down me like butter, melting  
As I pushed against your thighs  
All plush and hard and giving up against my chest.

That feeling, that sensation – still there in my head  
Its memory’s more real than anything you’ve done.  
I cannot feel it, when you’re here with me  
I cannot. All there’s now is cold, transpiring energy  
As what is left of me dries off in your old heat.

Ink dries in your old heat.

I used to have illusions, blurry thoughts of you.  
The Bot – her body had it wrong,  
Was all too soft and curving  
Dream made plastic flesh  
Belied by you, your boyish tits and waist.  
My dreams still give you curves sometimes.

But I am waiting –  
– not for you  
No fool would wait for you to come again –  
I’m waiting for the veil to fall once more.

It’s here, in this cool, dying time that I  
Can know the real you, how much I can’t care  
How much I cannot feel  
How much your flesh against me lies with every flame of heat.

As I cool off in this warm air  
The heat of you is gone  
And there is nothing but that emptiness you cosset close.  
Until I sleep and dream again I love you.

 

.


End file.
